Ready For Santa

J still believes in Santa. We have never told her that he exists, but do not deny it either. Instead, we try to open her young mind by asking her questions like: "How many children do you think live in the entire world? How long do you think it might take to go down one chimney to put presents under a tree and fill, say, 2 stockings? How long did it take us to fly from Pittsburgh to Tampa, Florida last year?" And leave her to draw her own conclusions. She has. Santa, she declares, puts presents in the stockings, but Mommy and Daddy put the presents under the tree.

JP is incredulous. At the tender age of nine, he had long before discounted the jolly old elf. I think she is teetering on the edge of fantasy and reality; unwilling to let go of the Fairy Tale for the harshness of the real world.

So, ok, we're not really ready for "Santa", just for the transformation he represents. The tree has become a glittering showcase for years of Christmas memories, each ornament with its own story. Gradually, gifts from friends are appearing under the tree, parties are attended, gifts exchanged, Merry-Merry's tossed across the counter at the bank, the post office, the grocery store. All the shopping is done, all the gifts wrapped, all the Christmas cards mailed, and as of this afternoon, all of the cookies baked.

This year, I have been telling the girls, "Christmas is for children." But that's not really true. Their anticipation is building and they are nearly crawling out of their skins with excitement of the festivities yet to come. I am almost as excited to see their smiling faces as they shred the paper off all of the carefully wrapped gifts.

I love it all: the lights, the Christmas music, the Santa neck-tie my boss wears, the jingle bells. I love snuggling up with L on my lap to watch "It's a Wonderful Life". I love the excuse to eat more cookies and chocolate, the extravagance, the decadence.

All too soon, the girls will want to be somewhere else for Christmas, so I'm soaking it all up now. I'm breathing deeply, and inhaling the joy of Christmas, and hoping that it will warm me through dreary February.

And now, my dears, much bustling awaits. Travel ensues, as does Christmas-ing and Birthday celebrating, so I am unlikely to tap out my musings again for a while. So Merry-Merry to all of you, and may you enjoy the lights of the season with the joy of a child. "God bless us every one!" said Tiny Tim, the last of all.